


Show You What All the Howlin's For

by MahTohSka



Category: Ghostbusters (Comics), Ghostbusters (Movies 1984-1989), Ghostbusters - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolves, Gen, Transformation, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-08-23 20:38:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16626038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MahTohSka/pseuds/MahTohSka
Summary: You: MahTohSka, did you write MORE Ghostbuster fics about werewolves?Me: No! *long pause* ... yesFour one shot stories I concocted after I wrote 'Bark at the Moon'. Title is a lyric from TV on the Radio's 'Wolf Like Me'





	1. Full Disclosure

**Author's Note:**

> Janine knew her bosses were eccentric the first time she met them, but she soon found out eccentric didn't cover it.

When Janine Melnitz was hired by the Ghostbusters, she knew each of her new bosses were eccentric, but what she accidentally saw one night left her wanting to quit right then and there. The next morning she came in as usual, heart pounding in her chest as the nerves took hold once she was inside and started making her way towards her desk. 

“Mornin’, Janine!” Ray called as she walked by. He was working on the hearse, the hood propped up, and half his body was laying on top of the engine belly down. 

“Good morning,” she stumbled over her words. How was she to bring it up? Janine quickly went to work but … what work was there to do? She had brought a novel with her that day, cracking it open and tried to forget what she saw last night.

Ray craned his head to Janine’s way, his brows drawn together slightly. He already sensed a change in her personality, in fact, she seemed spooked about something. Ever the one to help someone out, Ray interrupted his mechanical work; he got himself off the engine, grabbing a rag to wipe his hands as he casually made his way to Janine’s desk. She saw him approach, her heart rapidly beating; she braced herself, trying to nonchalantly start a conversation. 

“Are you-,”

“Dr. Stantz-,”

“Oh, sorry, go ahead,” Ray let her have the floor after they spoke at the same time. Janine gave a deep breath and asked the question. 

“Is there something you three didn’t mention to me when we first got acquainted?”

Ray’s head cocked to the right, brows faintly furrowed subsequently smoothing out and straightening his head, giving a slow nod in knowing what she meant. 

“You saw us …”

“I forgot a book I had left here last night, and went to come get it, but when I grabbed it, I heard … noises. Growling noises,” Janine elaborated. “Coming from upstairs. I only peaked but I saw …” She shook her head, stopping herself as she waved a dismissive hand. “It’s, it’s nothing I’m sure …”

“No, no, I … I’m glad you brought it up, actually,” Ray assured her, leaning his body towards the stairs, and not even raising his voice he called out, “Pete, Egon, come here for a sec.”

Footsteps sounded above, coming down the stairs. The tall Ghostbuster with the dark eyes and professor attire was the first to show himself, fixated on the psychokinetic energy meter he was making adjustments to; Janine didn’t see him there last night, but she wondered if he was one of them as well. 

“Where’s Peter?” Ray asked.

“Still sleeping, he doesn’t wake until noon during this time,” Egon mentioned, eyes still concentrated on the meter. 

Ray gradually brought his hand over the device and pushed down, getting Spengler’s attention as Stantz nonchalantly forced him to focus on a different matter by lowering meter. Egon’s dark brows came together in confusion, Ray gestured his head towards their new secretary. 

“She knows,” was all he had to say to make Egon set the meter down on the desk and bring a chair over to Janine. 

“Ms. Melnitz … we …” Egon glanced at Ray before continuing and sat down, a slight lump caught in his throat was cleared, “we hope this doesn’t give you second thoughts about working with us. You showed to be open minded to the paranormal when you were interviewed. However, with this recent discovery, and, if I may speak for all three, it now occurs to us we should have disclosed this upon our first meeting.” He briefly paused. “I sincerely apologize for any distrust you have towards us and ask you how we can redevelop a trust between us.”

Christ, his voice. She could listen to him read Grey’s Anatomy if she wanted; Janine was being set at ease while Dr. Spengler tried to reassure her. 

“Just … just tell me how it happened,” she finally answered. “I was shocked at first, didn’t know werewolves would be the first thing I’d see with my own two eyes as far as paranormal things go.” She paused, faintly shaking. “I only saw two last night. Are you one, too, Dr. Spengler?”

He deeply breathed through his nose. God, the suspense was killing her. 

“Yes.” Egon leaned forward. “I am one, however I suppressed the transformation last night in order to watch Ray and Peter.”

Her brows drew together. “Like dog sitting?” She leaned on her desk, rubbing her face. “Tell me everything. How you all got turned, etcetera.” 

Ray pulled up a chair next to Egon, both taking turns in telling their origins; Ray was bit one night during summer camp at twelve, Egon was born that way. They found out about Peter during their college years, Venkman was cursed when he was eighteen for dumping the daughter of a witch that lived on his block. During their college student years, Ray sought help from a powerful Romani witch who gave him a silver medallion that would ward off the transformation, but only for one night. 

“Which works fine because we each take turns during the cycle to make sure none of us go on a rampage,” Ray shrugged his shoulders. “I take the first night, Egon watches over on the second, and Peter’s on the last night.” 

“Does it hurt? Not being able to change when you’re wearing it?” Janine was intrigued by the story. “Can I see what it looks like?”

Egon was still wearing it from the night before, he slightly loosened his tie and undid the first button, pulled the medallion up and over his head, handing it to Janine. It was the size of a half dollar, the image on it depicted a medieval drawing of a wolf’s head, on the back was the Seal of Solomon. Both Ray and Egon glanced at each other, each faintly uncomfortable knowing the effects the medallion has had on them, turning their heads towards their secretary. 

“It only gives me mild discomfort like a headache, Egon bears the brunt of it all, while Peter gets bad muscle cramps,” Ray replied, eyeing the amulet. 

“And there’s not enough ibuprofen, Tylenol, what have you, to make the pain go away,” Peter was heard as he descended the stairs. He strolled over to the trio, Janine gave Egon the medallion back who in turn handed it off to Venkman. Peter slipped the amulet over his head, tucking it under his sweater. “You told her, then.” 

“Everything,” Ray nodded.

“Good, ‘cause I hate telling everyone how I got cursed,” Peter came behind Egon, putting one hand on a shoulder and the other on top of Spengler’s head. “Watch out for this guy, though, Janine. Guy can be a real beast most nights.” He moved the hand on Egon’s head to the other shoulder. “Make sure you load up on those carbs and protein before you change tonight. You know how cranky and bloodthirsty you get if you haven’t properly eaten.”

Egon subtly rolled his eyes as Peter let himself go and prop an arm on the filing cabinets. He didn’t need to be told that Janine saw him and Ray lounging on the second floor, Peter saw a glimpse of someone go down the stairs last night when he heard footsteps. He slightly smirked at Janine as the secretary was fixated on Egon. 

“How bad is it, Dr. Spengler?” she inquired, leaning towards him, a hand on his delicately clasped hands. 

Egon tried not to brush off the hand that offered to sympathize with him. In fact, he was trying to distract carnal urgings from rising and taking over. He was simply frozen in his seat, even Ray and Peter were sensing Spengler was keeping the wolf at bay, literally. 

“Imagine every fiber and muscle in your body on fire, hard to move without crying out, and getting burned by the amulet adds to it,” he explained. “It’s like a weight on my chest, I can only sparingly use morphine to make it somewhat bearable and be able to work.”

“It burns you when you all wear it?” she looked to Peter and Ray, her concerned stare landing on Egon once more.

“He’s got the scar to prove it,” Peter gestured with the finger on the propped up arm towards Spengler. “It disappears after a day or two for me and Ray, hardly ever goes away for Spengs.”

Not wanting to be feeling vulnerable on top of primal mating urges rising, Egon quickly stood, adjusting his top button and tie in a sloppy manner; he grabbed the PKE meter and disappeared somewhere upstairs. Peter and Ray held their silence before they both knew it was safe to continue talking. Janine furrowed her brows faintly as she watched Dr. Spengler rush out of there looking flustered and somewhat annoyed. 

“He’s not one to talk about it,” Peter sat in the chair Egon occupied, but loved to pull at people’s heartstrings to feel sorry for the guy. “You should see it. It itches badly for him there’s even scars over that from him scratching at it harshly to the point it bleeds.”

“Okay, Pete, I think you’ve pulled at her enough,” Ray got up, knowing how Peter loves to milk Egon’s backstory and current disposition to people.

“Hard to keep his hands away from it,” Peter set the chairs back. “Well, think I’ll give the ol’ butchers a ring-a-ding, get our usual ready. We gotta hungry boy to feed tonight.” He leaned towards Janine. “You’re welcome to join us. I know the big guy would love to have you around.” Peter gave her a wink before disappearing back into his office. 

Janine took this time to soak up what she had learned, now intrigued to see it all. 

As instructed, she met Peter out front of the firehouse, he took her to the back alley where she came upon the sight of Drs. Stantz and Spengler wearing bathrobes; the moon wasn’t up in the sky yet but from what she saw in Ray and Egon’s faces, she felt sorry for the pain they were experiencing. Venkman kept a large bottle of ibuprofen handy, dry swallowing a small handful to start out his night. 

As the stars started to appear, the moon was emerging above the skyline. Janine checked her watch, it was close to ten when she heard one of the robed ‘Busters give a stifled cry of pain. Her attention was brought back to her bosses, the audible sounds of bones cracking and shifting was unsettling to her ears not to mention the human cries and groans changing into whines and snarls, eyes averting the changes at times but watched with curiosity. 

Egon and Ray let out howls once their transformation was complete, the former giving a short bark and a snap of his jaws to the latter who immediately rolled onto his side and exposed his belly, whining. The larger werewolf then set his eyes on Peter, giving a snarl; Venkman backed off, putting his hands at shoulder height, his human way of telling the darker colored beast he submits. Janine would’ve thought Peter was the alpha of the small pack, but it happened to be Dr. Spengler, her brows faintly raised in surprise.

Pack status established as was custom, the two werewolves sniffed the air for food; Peter moved to the alley entrance, popping his head out to see a pair of headlights heading towards the firehouse. The truck stopped by Venkman, the man in the driver’s seat got up and went into the back; Ray and Egon stared with hungry eyes, now and then licking their maws. Two cleaned out hogs were hauled out from the back of the truck, along with a beef quarter; the carcasses were set at the wolves’ hand-like paws, the driver and his coworker getting whatever the charge was and quickly got out of there. 

“Okay, boys,” Peter set the quarter of beef down on top of the dressed hogs. “Chow down.”

Janine had never seen two werewolves voraciously devour a seemingly large meal, the audible snapping of bones sent a shiver down her spine. Peter watched her out of the corner of his eye, a small smirk on his lips. He wondered if he could convince the other two to have their new secretary keep watch over all three of them; he hated being in human form when the moon was out, the throbbing of his aching muscles crying for a change to happen was a hindrance. The amulet had stopped its burning, causing Peter to scratch at his chest now and then. He popped another small handful of ibuprofen, subsequently leaning up against a brick wall, and absentmindedly watching Ray and Spengs fight over the last of their dinner. 

An hour had passed, Venkman checked his watch and moved to the back doors of the firehouse; the two wolves had risen from their nap, following Peter inside. Spengler stopped at the doors just as Janine was following suit. She found herself gazing into a pair of gold eyes, his size no larger than a polar bear; the wolf extended his nose, sniffing her out. Janine held her breath while she was being registered as friend of food, letting out a sigh of relief when the large werewolf trotted back into the firehouse on all fours before rising to his feet. Egon glanced her way once more before giving his maw a quick lick and went to join Ray by the desk. 

“Full disclosure, Janine,” Peter mentioned as he stood in the doorway with her, “this is the first time Spengs has been on his best behavior. He’s usually Mr. Growly and snapping at us.” He briefly paused. “I think your presence calms him. I’m beginning to think somewhere deep down … he likes you. But don’t quote me on that.”

Janine kept staring at the larger black wolf, Ray had rolled onto his side and gently pawed at Spengler with his tail lightly wagging on the ground. The latter remained stoic as he was laying on the ground, his head up and poised; Janine took it upon herself to cautiously make her way towards the two wolves. Ray immediately exposed his belly once Janine was by them, his hand-like paws curling up on his chest, his mismatched eyes begging for a belly rub; she was fascinated by the heterochromia in Ray’s irises – one jade and the other light blue like she would see in a husky’s. She indulged the dark brown wolf by giving his underside a good rub to which the wolf lightly panted with his tongue halfway out. 

She saw something move in her peripheral vision, a large black mass assuming the same position Ray was. Alpha werewolf Egon Spengler, Mr. Grouch most nights during the full moon … wanting a belly scratch? Janine was hesitant, pausing the session she was giving Ray to reach a hand over the polar bear sized werewolf’s belly; her hand moved around in a circle, Spengler soon faintly panting which made Janine use her nails to scratch him. This caused the wolf’s tongue to loll out of the side of his mouth and his tail starting to wag. 

“I’ll be damned,” Peter mumbled, looking at the scene before him, feeling slightly jealous. “He never lets me do that.”


	2. We're a Pack of Ghostbusting Alpha Wolves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three alpha werewolves in one place was tolerable. What's one more alpha by the name of Winston Zeddemore to them?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got the idea from Chief's line from 'Isle of Dogs': "We're a pack of scary, indestructible alpha dogs."
> 
> I wanted to write a story from Winston's perspective, he was cursed by a witch doctor while he served in 'Nam. This takes place in the first movie.

Winston could smell three other scents as he stood outside the firehouse with the advertisement clipping in his hand. They were giving him mixed signals but he pressed on, he needed this job. He strolled into the building, looking around for a staff member at the desk; Janine had come back shortly after with a cup of coffee, almost getting frightened when Winston said his hello. 

“I’m, uh, here for the job,” he mentioned, handing his resume. 

“Well, have a seat, Mister … Zeddemore,” Janine glanced at his name and pointed at the chair, setting herself down. She had read over the document, asking standard questions before the required inquire drilled out, “Do you believe in UFOs, astral projections, mental telepathy, ESP, clairvoyance, spirit photography, telekinetic movement, full trance mediums, the Loch Ness monster and the theory of Atlantis?”

Winston faintly drew his brows together at the list, finally answering, “If there’s a steady paycheck in it, I’ll believe anything you say.” 

Funny, coming from a werewolf. One of the scents he smelled earlier was stronger as he sat there, two more came his way as the garage doors opened and an engine rumbling before getting shut off; Winston became faintly anxious but held his own as the vehicle doors opened and closed. 

“I gotta get some sleep.” 

“You don’t look too good.”

It all happened rather quickly. He was getting introduced by the secretary to two haggard looking guys in jumpsuits, next he was carrying smoking traps handed to him by one of them. Winston found his gaze on a pair of mismatched eyes, inviting and friendly.

“Welcome aboard,” Ray handed their newest member the traps, his senses going off in the back of his mind, alerting him that Winston was a werewolf. Hopefully they all don’t tear each other apart. It took him, Peter, and Egon months to come to a mutual understanding when they all first met in college; three alphas tolerably living and working together, fine. But add a fourth? It might get messy. 

“I don’t trust him,” Peter grumbled as they drove to Central Park. 

“Peter, you say that about everyone we’ve met who’s just like us,” Ray mumbled back turning a corner. “You were like that when you met me, I’m sure Egon can vouch that you didn’t trust him. And look how far we’ve come.”

“Winston doesn’t seem like the type of alpha to assert dominance with every other werewolf he comes into contact with,” Egon piped from the backseat. “Unlike some people …”

“Yeah, well, us ‘some people’ would want others to know that I’m not the type to mess with, alright?” Peter crossed his arms, somewhat slouching in his seat.

Ray sighed, parking the hearse a block away. The three Ghostbusters strolled down to Central Park, the sky getting dark as the stars shined with each passing second and the full moon rising above the skyscrapers; several howls broke out in the night, a lone dark wolf perked his ears towards the sound, soon slightly pinning them back. 

Winston tried to pray away the curse when he got back from Vietnam. He didn’t know what was happening the first time he changed, he remembered the grin the witch doctor who cursed him in the first place made. It still was on the man’s face even after Winston tore him to shreds, plastered on for eternity. As if fitting back into civilian society after the Corps was difficult, keeping the beast under wraps was an even tougher task. The dark wolf snarled to himself softly, ducking under brush and thickets.

He had spotted a rabbit, body poised ready to strike; he just about had it when he collided with another werewolf that also wanted the same dinner. Winston snarled, peeling his lips back to bare his fangs, his opponent striking the same pose. Two more wolves appeared behind the smaller one; the dark brown wolf on the right softened his growls, sniffing Winston. The larger black wolf started to relax his composure, whapping the smaller wolf on the head, gesturing to Winston; the brown wolf ceased his snarling, all three wolves stared at him. 

Winston realized who these three were, his body becoming lax as he licked his lips. Ray stepped forward, an auburn and green eye fixated on him, curiously sniffing him. The dark brown wolf rose to his feet, Winston following suit; he had a good half foot on Ray, what he wasn’t expecting from his pack mate was a hug. Egon had stood and joined the two, giving an acknowledging nod; the trio looked to Peter who hung about before shrugging his shoulders and went to give Winston a huge slap on the back. 

A series of growls interrupted the comradery, four werewolves challenged the Ghostbusters, their jaws snapping and giving barks. Spengler was the first to get down on all fours, his fur bristling and lips peeling back to snarl; the opposing gray wolf lunged first, Egon having an upper hand due to his mass and height, colliding with the smaller gray. The four member packs bit and scratched, the fight ending with the challengers whining and scampering off with their tails tucked between their legs. Peter ran a couple feet, giving a few growls and a bark to convey a warning never cross their path again. 

 

“I’m Winston Zeddemore, Your Honor,” he stepped up to the mayor’s desk, “now, I’ve only been with the company for a couple of weeks but believe me these things are real.” He leaned forward on the desk, emphasizing with his finger. “Since I’ve started working with them, I have seen shit that’ll turn you white!” 

They had been gathered to the mayor’s office after the containment unit had been shut down by a certain EPA agent, causing an explosion that released every single entity the Ghostbusters had caught, only for all their hard work come crashing to a halt, thanks to Dickless the Clown, as Ray affectionately called one Walter Peck. 

“If I’m wrong, nothing happens, we go to jail peacefully, quietly, we’ll enjoy it,” Peter persuaded the mayor, “but if I’m right, and we can stop this thing,” he paused, “Lenny, you will have saved the lives of millions of registered voters.”

The suspense hung in the air, a small smile came on Lenny’s lips. Registered voters. Millions of them. And him to thank for making the right choice. Getting re-elected was always a top priority for his office. Peck slid up next to Venkman, bewilderment on his face. 

“I don’t believe you’re seriously considering listening to these men,” he lowly retorted.

Lenny contemplated his options, eyes darting between Venkman and Peck; Winston silently prayed the mayor chooses the right thing to do. They have to stop some moldy Sumerian god from tearing up the city, the Ghostbusters were the only guys to do it. 

“Get him outta here,” Lenny pointed a finger to Peck. 

“Buh-bye,” Peter smirked to Walter as the agent was briskly escorted out of the office. “I’m gonna miss him.”

Winston let out a small chuckle. Glad that’s over. 

“Now, what do you need from me?” the mayor asked the four stoppers of the apocalypse. 

 

Winston thought it might’ve been overkill to send in the National Guard, but hey, helps with crowd control. He always wanted a police and army escort anyway. A shiver ran up his spine as the four Ghostbusters stood outside on the pavement of Spook Central, the clouds darkening above the towering structure. The ground below them and split apart, vehicles upended as the team fell into the crevices, the shouts and screams of the onlookers sounded in the area. 

Thankfully alive after what could’ve been sudden death, the event may have shaken them up, it only gave them reason to march into the Shandor building with determination. 

“They wanna play rough, huh?” Peter called out once they were on the surface. “They wanna play? Let’s get ‘em, boys!” The crowd cheered with fervor, the Ghostbusters disappearing into the apartment building. 

“Stairs … too many … stairs,” Venkman panted somewhere along the way. “What floor are we on?”

“I think we’re in the teens,” Ray answered back, huffing.

“Tell me when we get to twenty, I’m gonna throw up,” Peter grumbled trying to push onwards, however faltering on the landing shortly after. “I can’t. This is it for me, go on without me, guys.” 

“We have to do this, Peter, c’mon,” Spengler pulled at Venkman’s arm. 

“No … too much …”

“I sure hope we can stop Gozer from bringing in the apocalypse but … what if … what if we fail?” Ray started to have second guesses, leaning his arm against the wall. 

“C’mon, guys,” Winston piped up, “what’s going on here? We won’t fail, Ray. And Peter, that girl up there you got the hots for will most likely thank you for saving her if we defeat this guy. We’re a pack of scary, indestructible, ghostbusting alpha werewolves. We gotta show this Gozer New York is our territory, these people are our pack, and we will not have him claim control and dominance over us.”

“Winston’s right,” Egon agreed. “A pack’s territory is under attack, we are that pack. An alpha and his subordinates, or in our case, all of us as alphas, must protect their turf from invading entities. Those in favor of proceeding,” he raised his hand, Winston shot his up. Ray had gotten his confidence back, showing his hand. Peter cussed under his breath, raising his; he hated the group vote, but it’s how they got things done. 

“Let’s kick Gozer’s ass,” Peter gave himself and the guys a final pep talk. “For Dana. For New York. For us.” 

“That’s the spirit,” Winston grinned, helping Venkman up onto his feet. The stairs proved to be a constant enemy, but finally getting up to the twenty-second floor gave the guys great relief. 

What proceeded after, is history.


	3. Clair de Lune

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One of two short stories connected to 'Bark at the Moon'
> 
> Even after being cured, he becomes restless during the full moon. The moonlight allows Egon to let his mind wander.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apart from the piece by Debussy of the same title, there's a poem that inspired Debussy to write it. And it inspired me too. Plus a little 'Jabberwocky' reference thrown in there. Made this a bit poetic. I'm sorry.

He sat in the windowsill of her apartment, unable to sleep. The full moon above offered a familiar comfort to him; however, he was missing something while he gazed up at the white orb in the dark void. Ever since he’d been cured completely five months ago, there came a strange phantom itch that lingered throughout the nights during the cycle; it haunted him with lucid dreams of his former self, a black beast of enormous size with jaws that bite and claws that catch. He would toss and turn in his bed, muscles straining and aching until he couldn’t take it anymore and gave himself a heavy duty muscle relaxer to make it stop. 

There were scars that never healed, reminders of the short lived time he was that frumious beastie; he absentmindedly ran a finger along a scar across his forearm, gliding his hand to one across his abdomen. The numb feeling sending a faint ripple of discomfort through his body, exhaling a soft shaky breath. Brown eyes fixated on the moon high aloft the skyline, begging to be lost again in its glow. 

“Egon? You okay?” A gentle had on his shoulder snapped him out of the trance, he rubbed his eyes with one hand. 

“Yes. Letting my mind wander with distractions, what would have been.”

“I’ll still love you if you were the Wolfman,” Janine kissed his temple. She could see there was something else rooting around in his mind, a faint frown on his lips. “Don’t blame yourself for things that didn’t happen. Talk to Ray or, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, Peter, if the dreams are getting too real.”

“They have been,” he mumbled. He looked down at a scar from a deep wound on his arm. “There are some days I strangely wish I could change. I somehow tapped into a … power, for lack of a better word, which fascinated me.” Egon paused. Janine traced a scar running down his back, making him shiver. “I wanted to harness it, control it. Being the other taught me many things.” His eyes darted back to the moon. “I still have questions I need answers to.”

“The dog days are over,” Janine pet his head, “only for the moon to shine its melancholy glow.”

Egon knitted his brows, turning his gaze up to her, smoothing his features. “Rather poetic, Janine.”

“Eh, nothin’ special,” she shrugged, playing with his hair. “Just reminds me of a poem I read once. One line jumps out in particular … melancholic moonlight, sad and beautiful.”

He hummed in agreement, the feeling gnawed at his anatomy; Egon leaned against Janine, sharing a quiet moment in the wee hours, as they often did. She had her hand on his left shoulder, Spengler’s right hand reached up across his torso to clasp with it. Janine kissed the top of his head, resting her chin on him. 

“In a peculiar way … I miss it,” he mumbled. 

“I know you do,” she gave another peck. “Now, c’mon, I want to treat you to a nice body massage …,” she whispered in his ear, “if you get my drift.”

A low rumble sounded from his chest, Egon was up quick, guiding Janine back to the bedroom.


	4. Revenant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternate ending to 'Bark at the Moon' 
> 
> After the events of nearly killing Ray, Egon relieves himself from the company. However, when it was decided by the others he needed to return, they come upon an unwelcome sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had this rooting around for a while when I was writing 'Bark at the Moon'. I also toyed with the idea of killing my darlings, mostly Ray and Egon. I have more to say after it, but for the beginning here - if the bear attack in 'The Revenant' is anything to go by ... well ... Egon mauling Ray is on that level.

Stantz froze, finding himself staring down a wild animal that was once his colleague, fully seeing Egon as what he had ultimately become. His size was definitely larger than before, Stantz was right to say Spengler had finally grown into the stature and height of a fully grown male polar bear if not slightly more than a half foot. He saw the wounds decorating the black werewolf’s body; the arrow stubs in Spengler’s left thigh and arm still jutting out, the lacerations he had endured from the fight deep and gradually stopping the bleeding as the self-regeneration process began which meant … 

Ray saw the first morning light starting to brighten the sky, the illumination of the glade didn’t soften what was coming next. Spengler still had not changed back, Ray’s worst fear about this came true. He looked Egon in the eyes, the black wolf snarling loudly at Ray, snapping his jaws and stalking him. Stantz knitted his brows together in distress. This can’t be happening. What if the wolfsbane somehow kills Egon? He almost couldn’t bring himself to pull the trigger of the dart pistol.

The werewolf lunged forward, Ray fired the pistol; however, his aim faltered, and the dart missed Spengler. The mass was on top of him, Stantz using his arm as a guard, the fangs just about breaking through the Kevlar. Ray gave a mighty punch to Egon’s injured eye, the wolf yelping and answered with a slash of his claws across the human’s torso, the pack coming off Ray. The werewolf pulled at a leg, his fangs clamped tight into the muscle, dragging the human three feet. Claws managed to tear off the Kevlar torso plate, Ray cried out as teeth sunk into his abdomen. 

He gave any punches and kicks he could manage to get Spengler off him, Ray was free for a second, attempting to crawl away before the beast continued to assault him with jaws sinking into a shoulder, claws tore at his back. The human was flipped over, Ray grabbed at the arrow in Spengler’s left arm, ripping it out and plunged it into the black werewolf’s chest, it now stuck just below the collarbone and narrowly missing an artery. The wolf yelped, backing off; Ray grimaced, going back to crawling towards the pack to radio for help. His groans and grunts of pain alerted the wolf that the human was still alive; the beast gave a low growl, limping at a stalking pace. 

Ray was in fingers reach of the radio, letting out a pained shout when teeth sunk into his back, tugging him back to the blood stained patch of grass. He moaned Egon’s name, coughing up blood along the way; the exhaustion was setting in, he couldn’t fight back. The beast was on top off him, sniffing about the torn open body; the human was still breathing, Ray felt the wolf’s hot breath on his neck, a grip tightening on the collar of his jumpsuit and lifted him up. The beast stood on his feet, looking over the weak human, subsequently dropping him when the creature felt the human was close to dying and started to walk off in the opposite direction. A mewl sounding like a name came to the wolf’s ears, garnering the beast to come back and finish the job. Ray was on his back, the world slipping in and out of blackness. He said Egon’s name in a hoarse manner, begging for the beast to come to his senses. 

The werewolf was standing over the human, his gold eye staring down at the mauled man. His left eye was starting to heal and could see the human with both eyes in tact now; the beast pressed a paw-like hand on the other’s abdomen, adding pressure and sunk his claws in. The creature began to nip and bite away at the human’s chest, ripping muscles away little by little, contemplating on the taste of him. He was too weak to scream or move. Ray felt world come to a close, he hung on by a thread, with what little breath he had left, before the wolf’s jaws could wrap around his neck and end him, he spoke to the beast. 

“Please … Egon … wake up … I tried, Egon … I tried … Spengler …”

The beast froze, something clicked in his mind, a new force coming to the surface of his being. His fangs were nearly there to snap Ray’s neck, Egon gradually pulled away from the mauled body that is his friend and colleague. Spengler looked at the carnage before him as the sun illuminated most of the glade; blood painted the dew covered grass, a dented proton pack lay feet away from them, and Ray … 

Egon pinned his ears back, tail tucking between his legs, loud whines emitting from him, growing into cries and pained howls. He quieted himself, giving soft whines now and then, approaching Ray. Spengler felt sick to his stomach, examining the damage he had done to him; looking more like a bear attack, he was relieved to see that Stantz was breathing, albeit shallow. Egon carefully put Ray on his back, the human managing to hold on to the wolf’s fur, the werewolf making the trek back to the where he parked the truck he arrived in. 

Winston had Janine patched up, eyes focused on the trail ahead of him that lead to the glade; Peter leaned against the hearse, arms crossed and a foot planted on the side of the vehicle. Both men were trying to recover from the attack they endured last night, Peter more so than Winston. Venkman couldn’t get over how Egon wasn’t himself at all, a beast on the rampage, the way Peter was shaken about and bit and clawed at. He had a feeling he wouldn’t be sleeping for a while. Janine bit and picked at her lip in a nervous tick, sitting next to Winston at the back of the hearse with the door wide open. 

Leaves crunching ahead snapped everyone’s attention, hearts sinking and fearing the worst when they saw Egon still in his werewolf form carrying a severely injured human on his back, the jumpsuit the only giveaway as the human’s face was covered with blood and mud it was hard to tell. Spengler was close enough for Peter to rush to Ray and get him off, the wolf taking a few steps back. Venkman was on his knees, cradling Ray’s torso and holding him close, seeing how badly he was injured. 

Egon felt hot stares from Peter and Winston, his ears flattened, whines quietly came out, tail tucking. Janine couldn’t believe what she was seeing, eyes darting between Ray and Egon, she took two steps forward. 

“Did you do this?” she asked in a quiet voice, pointing a weak finger to Ray. 

The wolf bowed his head, the whines increasing. 

“Egon …,” Peter started, a warning tone in his trembling voice, tears fresh and hot in his eyes, “did … you … do this?”

The werewolf took a timid step forward, the whines quieting down, but was met with a barrel of a rifle in his face. Winston had brought out a hunting rifle tucked away in Ecto-1, silver bullets loaded in it; Zeddemore clicked the safety off, pulling the bolt back and put it back in place. Spengler stood his ground, ceasing his whimpering. 

“Peter, get Ray to a hospital ASAP, Janine go with him,” Winston instructed in a monotone voice, fire and fury in his eyes locked on Egon. 

Not a word was spoken as Peter cradled Ray, getting him gently and carefully into the hearse; Janine and Egon gave brief stares at each other, the wolf making a move towards her, but the barrel followed him. Spengler stayed put, a quiet whine sounded. 

“Janine, I said go with Peter,” Winston growled. 

“I’m not letting you kill him …”

“Ray is close to dying, Janine,” he raised his voice to her, shaking in anger, he lowered his tone. “I know what I’m doing. Just go.”

The hearse left Winston and Egon alone, Spengler noticed Winston’s finger wasn’t on the trigger, it still lay on the stock above it. The werewolf walked right up to the end of the barrel, putting his forehead against it. Winston took a sharp breath through his nose, pressing on the wolf’s head. Internally he was screaming, he was furious that this happened.

“I wish you had come to your senses sooner,” he growled. “Ray should’ve radioed us the minute you killed Lars and didn’t change back. But _you_ …,” he pressed the end of the barrel further against Egon’s head, “ _you_ … did this. You’re the one who wanted to study himself, you’re the one who told me you won’t turn on us if you had control over yourself. I warned Ray about this. I warned Peter, Janine, and you … said … you had it under control.” He took deep breaths, the fury rising.

“You gave us your word!” Winston shouted, his voice echoing in sunlight woods. Spengler kept his gaze on Winston, motionless, waiting on the Marine to lower the rifle. However, Winston’s index finger moved to curl around the trigger. Egon backed off, body language becoming wary and scared, whines surfacing. Winston took a moment to close his eyes, taking deep breaths. 

“Winston,” a human voice spoke to him. 

He opened his eyes to see Egon in his human form, kneeling on the ground with his hands up at head level; Winston blinked twice to see if it was an illusion or if Spengler really changed back to speak with him. 

“You better make this quick, Egon,” he snarled. 

“I will. It’s a little painful to be in my human form currently,” he noted, clearing his throat before moving on. “I apologize. Sincerely. Ray and I were aware of my condition should I not change back. He missed me when he fired the dart. It turned into worst case scenario quickly that none of us prepared for should it have occurred. Now that it did, there is irreparable damage done to everyone. That being said … I resign my position, and willingly terminate myself from the company.” 

Winston lowered the rifle, disbelief starting to show on his face. “Egon … you don’t have to …”

“I do have to. I’m also beginning to feel internal changes that may alter the way the synthetic wolfsbane will affect me, which will most likely kill me. I’m unsure but there’s a very slim chance I’ll live if its injected. For everyone’s best interest, I must depart from the company.” He winced, feeling the changes coming on full force, he crumpled to the ground. Egon gazed up at Winston. “I’m sorry.” 

Winston watched Spengler changed back into his other form. The werewolf shook himself from head to toe, gold eyes locked on the Ghostbuster briefly before Egon turned and ran into the woods. 

In the subsequent years following, it was decided Spengler needed to come back. Janine was the one relaying any messages, as she often took trips to be with Egon for a day or two; Ray has visited now and then, when he can, even dragging Peter along one or two times. It had taken Winston a long time to come around, occasionally joining Ray for a couple of weekends. 

The air was chilly when the hearse parked by the sign leading into the reserve. Fall was in the middle of its season, half the leaves on the trees had fallen off. The four started to hike to Spengler’s den; upon coming to it, it was void of the werewolf they were looking for. 

“He’s got another spot he likes to occupy,” Janine mentioned, taking them down the ridge and back into the glade they all knew. 

Winston spotted something on the ground as they walked – specks of blood.

“Guys, there’s a blood trail,” he mentioned, eyes following the drops. 

“You don’t think …,” Ray started. 

Two miles from where Winston noticed them, they came upon a sorry sight, one they wished they never saw. A black furry mass lay on the ground, taking shallow breaths and giving out soft whines. Peter was the first to rush over, collapsing on his knees before the werewolf. 

“No … don’t do this to me, world,” Venkman mumbled, inspecting the damage. 

Five arrows stuck out of his body, in various points on his back and arms and legs, one bear trap wrapped around his right ankle. Winston was careful to pull an arrow out, examining the tip. 

“It’s silver,” he noted. “It’s poisoning him.”

“He’ll pull through, won’t he?”

“Silver is an end all type of thing, Pete,” Ray told him, holding back tears. “There’s … there’s nothing we can do for him.” 

Janine knelt down in front of Egon’s head, lifting it up and scooted to let it rest on her legs. The wolf whined, Janine gave light scratches, petting his head. 

“Whoever it was that did this, they must’ve left him to die,” Winston came around to the back. “He must’ve been out like this for a few hours.”

“Plenty of time for the silver to work,” Ray crouched next to Janine, reaching a hand out to pet the dying werewolf. 

“The only thing we can do is be with him,” Janine’s voice trembled, scratching underneath the wolf’s jaw. 

“This shouldn’t have happened,” Peter mumbled, rising. “We had a cure ready, we were gonna give it to him and he was to come home with us. In one piece. Alive.” 

“Is it … too late for that?” Janine turned a teary gaze to Ray. 

“I don’t know how it will counteract the silver in his system,” he shrugged, shaking his head lightly. It was then the wolf’s whines increased in volume, his one free hind leg gave a twitch, his whole body began to seizure, the three Ghostbusters planting themselves to steady the shaking werewolf, Janine holding his head. 

After a full minute, the creature became still, as did his breathing. Peter, Ray, and Winston got themselves off the werewolf, panic on their faces; Janine still cradled Egon’s head in her lap, being the first to see the wolf’s body change. All four tried to hold back sobs, though proved to be futile; when his anatomy transformed back, it had been a long time since they’ve all seen him in his human form. 

“Oh, god …” Peter choked a sob. Winston knelt, removing the arrows from his colleague’s body, chucking them to the side in disgust. Much to Janine’s protest of wanting to hold him longer, they carried him best they could back to the hearse, wrapping his body in a blanket. They hadn’t covered his face, everyone taking a chance to say something. Janine was last, giving him a kiss on his forehead. 

“I love you,” she only whispered, closing his eyelids. A cool autumnal breeze answered them, leaves tore themselves from the branches, falling to the earth below; the ride back to New York seemed like an eternity, heavy hearts carried Spengler’s body into the firehouse. They placed him on the long table in the lab, finding themselves staring at the covered form for five minutes with not one of them realizing it had been that long. 

“If you want, you can spend the night here, Janine,” Winston offered, rubbing her back in comfort. 

She wiped away tears in her eyes. “I’d like that very much.” 

Night had settled on the quieter than usual firehouse. Janine had slept on the small sofa in the lab, not wanting to be away from Egon. It took her hours to fall asleep, her eyes gazed at the motionless body on the table until finally closing. She was dreaming she was in her apartment, the door opened, and a figure stood in the doorway. He was dressed in a fresh clean jumpsuit, no tears or scratches on his person; Janine watched the person walk into her home, trails of smoke came off him. Her eyes glided down to the nametag on his uniform – ‘SPENGLER’. 

“Janine,” he spoke to her, sounding relieved to see her. Janine ran up to him, wrapping her arms around his neck to kiss, however a different tone jarred her awake. 

“Janine?” a hoarse voice woke her from slumber. 

She bolted upright in the two-seater, eyes darting across the lab. Moonlight had illuminated most of the room, but it was dark in one portion of it. Janine stumbled over to the light switch, her breath hitched, and her heart almost stopped when lighting showed a sight that made her question if she was still dreaming. 

Egon was sitting upright on the table’s edge, the blanket shrouded over his shoulders; some streaks of dirt covered his face, confusion written on it. He didn’t have his glasses on, his vision blurred by this fact. When he first sat up, he could see the moon’s light shining on a small figure on the sofa. Janine was frozen by the door, not believing what she was seeing. 

“Janine … why am I …” 

His inquire was cut off by her scream. The three Ghostbusters had been sleeping in the bunk room, startled awake by Janine’s cry. Peter was surprisingly the first one out the door and bust opened the lab door, he too froze in his tracks when he saw Egon sitting up looking alive. 

“Peter, what’s happened to me? Where’s Ray?” the reanimated body asked him. 

“I’m here,” Ray pushed past Venkman, his pace slow approaching Egon. His eyes scanned his friend, landing on the PKE meter sitting a few feet away. 

It hadn’t registered Egon as a ghost … which meant …

“You’re … really alive …”

“I shouldn’t be. The silver’s effects would have ultimately been the cause of my death, however … that wasn’t the case.” He picked up the PKE meter, scanning himself. It didn’t detect any psychokinetic energy on him, giving him the conclusion he didn’t become a ghost. “This is slightly unnerving …”

“There … there must’ve been something I missed looking into werewolf lore,” Ray brushed a hand through his hair, scratching the back of his head. His features drew together in thought, quickly smoothing out. He snapped his fingers. “There is one thing I found. A person of good heart, thought, and deeds can have the curse lifted if they don’t do anything bad while as a werewolf. Even after death.”

“But that doesn’t fully explain why Egon was brought back,” Winston spoke from the door.

“It had a Christian tone to it,” Ray shrugged. “By the grace of God and his choir, that kind of reading.”

“Still …”

“Egon should’ve been dead after it was lifted,” Janine spoke up, brows faintly knitted together.

“He’s sitting right there, Janine,” Peter nudged her. “Don’t upset the guy.”

“And I was dead … for a time,” Egon pulled the blanket tighter around himself, regaining memories. “But from the moment I had ceased to exist to now, I experienced a limbo. Purgatory. There was a force that knew I shouldn’t have been there. However, a separate entity had targeted me, I was almost devoured by it until I was drawn upwards. I had been judged by peers of this … greater force, and my spirit sent back to earth.”

“In a sense, you met God,” Peter leaned against the door frame. 

Spengler sighed, giving his eyes a roll. “For poetic and figurative purposes, yes, just to indulge you. But in a literal sense, ‘God’,” he put up air quotes, “was nothing. No solid, corporeal entity. It was just … there around me.”

Ray was becoming fascinated by this discovery, eye widening in thought. “This opens up a whole new avenue for the afterlife.”

“It wasn’t really an afterlife,” Egon commented. “I’ll be putting together an analysis of my experience once I’m effectively grounded, I’m frankly disoriented from the ordeal and …”

Janine pulled herself from the wall, practically running up to embrace Egon. He was nearly knocked over from her, his arms took a minute to wrap around Janine. She had the vice of a boa constrictor, Egon was finding it hard to breathe at one point. 

“I’m just happy you’re alive,” she managed to speak through her tears, breaking off. She reached to caress his face, planting her lips on his. He kissed her back on the second one, the third time it started to get heated. A wild primal gaze sprung into Egon’s dark eyes, the other Ghostbusters in the room knew it was their cue to give the two some privacy as soon as Janine tore the blanket off Egon.

“Welcome back, Spengs,” Peter quipped before shutting the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally wanted to just leave Egon dead and kill my darling just this once. And I thought about Winston be the one to kill him, but chose a different route. And originally, Ray was supposed to be killed by Egon, but hated doing that to characters I love. I somehow wanted Ray to put Egon in a Cain Pit but that idea is for another fic for another time. 
> 
> I SWEAR this is the last time I'll write about werewolves. Unless convinced otherwise.


End file.
